


meaner than my demons

by Labradoodles_and_Muffins



Series: this house is not a home (but it could be) [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Study, Child Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, idk what a fucking vignette is, isn't it a cinema thing, why the fuck did this originally involve the vignette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4707251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Labradoodles_and_Muffins/pseuds/Labradoodles_and_Muffins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her demons are many and all equally terrible.</p><p>//loosely connected character studies</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> This series in particular is an exploration of the child abuse Tatiana suffered and how it haunts her and continues to affect her. It's one of those "the journey over the destination" fics so the completion point is basically non-existent and will just get random updates whenever I feel like dropping in something new.

“Demons are the worst things in the world,” they said. They fed her scary stories about monstrous creatures that hunted for little mages like her to torment and possess. She wondered why, if demons were so bad, the Templars didn’t notice all the ones roaming the tower, why they got to move freely and torture her.

 

She faces Fear for her Harrowing, a tiny girl, still a child really, standing toe to toe with what the stories say is one of the worst demons. She looks at it and thinks ' _you aren’t as scary as the demons that live with me_ '. It rears back in confusion at the sincerity of that thought. It flickers and blurs as it tries to pick something to change into that will really defeat her. But her demons are many and all equally terrible. There’s too many options for it to be able to settle and eventually she just walks away.

 

She wakes up in bed and understands why the Templars never fight her demons. They only fear the ones with ugly faces, the ones that prowl around other worlds and seek a way into this one. They do not recognise the ones she lives with, who walk around with smiles and who used to play tag in the Circle courtyard as an excuse to push her down without drawing attention to themselves. The ones who claim to have no idea where her bruises came from and who always seem to be believed over her.

 

She learns the difference between Demons and demons. One lives in the Fade with claws and too many eyes, the other lives in the Circle with sharp nails and ripped out strands of her hair curling around their feet. 

 

She performs a series of judgements long before the Conclave. The Templars are useless, too busy hunting out the Demons of the Fade to recognise the demons of Thedas. People are wicked and vicious and she does not like them. She curls into herself and slowly becomes ignored. Why worry about the quiet mage who sits in a corner day in and day out causing no trouble and staying far away from the books on blood magic? She follows orders and if she sometimes wears a black eye or her hair drifts away on a breeze it's nothing for the Templars to concern themselves with.

 

People do not care, she learns. The Grand Enchanter tried, once, but after she had the same stories every day of fists and kicks even the Grand Enchanter gave up. They call her a wild child, a liar, melodramatic. They are glad when the stories stop being told, taking it as a sign that she has grown out of her lying tongue. They appreciate the silence and that is all that matters to them. 

 

Her final judgement is this; Demons are scary but they are most certainly not the worst thing in the world. The worst thing in the world is people, indifferent and uncaring. There is nothing quite so terrible as looking into the eyes of someone you were supposed to be able to trust, who was supposed to protect you, and seeing a total lack of concern or evidence they consider **you** to be the real problem. It eats you up inside, gets worse as it spreads from person to person until all you can see is hard eyes looking at you like there is nothing in you of any worth. 

 

Such a judgement is passed when she is ten, four years after coming to the Circle. It sits in the corner of her soul and chews up her goodwill and faith until she feels like she is just a pile of bones in robes walking around in disguise. 


	2. Lightning tastes like freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surely this is worth fighting for.

A specialisation is expected of a Circle mage. To pick an element to wield and form your magic into. Everyone expects her to either become a Restoration mage or perhaps an Ice mage. She is either gentle or cold, depending on who you ask.

 

The new mages, fresh from their Harrowings, do a demonstration of their chosen branch. A silence falls when it’s her turn, half malicious and half not expecting anything particularly impressive. Hissed breaths escape every person watching when the lightning arcs from her fingers and splinters the test dummy, setting the straw alight and scattering the wooden pole it sat upon. 

 

She is the last of the new mages to give a demonstration and the room empties in silence, with people giving her suspicious looks as they file past. They cannot see how this magic fits and she knows they think that something is wrong, can see it on their faces. She just smiles, slow and gentle with no sign she can tell they are perturbed. 

 

Ever since her Harrowing she knew it would be lightning, could feel the storm rolling beneath her skin and in her bones. She can taste it sometimes, when she lies awake at night dreaming of open skies and places where people do not hurt her. It crackles along her tongue and around her fingers and she feels like she could shoot it from her eyes if she tried hard enough. 

 

There’s something about facing down a Fear Demon that has set her free. As much as she knows that she still has things to fear from the demons that live in the Tower, as much as she knows that the Chantry was wrong she still believes some of their stories. She believes that Fade-Demons are a true test of strength and a Fear Demon all the more so. 

 

She survived a Fear Demon and that means that she can survive People-Demons. It has to mean that because it’s the only thing telling her she can do this, against an army of things telling her that she cannot. 

 

She looks at the empty beds that once held other mages, the ones that killed themselves. The thought of spending the rest of her life here with these people and these walls confining her, closing in around her with every breath she takes, makes her wonder if they didn’t have the right idea. 

 

The idea is tempting at times but she’s managed to overcome it whenever it’s shown up before. Part of her holds tight to the idea of escape, fuelled by the whispers of the Libertarian Fraternity. She is not an Enchanter and cannot join a Fraternity but her ability to hold her tongue and her yearning looks out the window have caught their attention. They share some information with her, enough that hope stays alive in her heart.

 

She grasps such hope with both hands and refuses to let go. Life in the Circle is not pleasant but there is a chance, however slim, of something better. She wants the opportunity to see such a thing and she cannot do that if she is dead. Surely this is worth fighting for.


	3. when the Circle was broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When it happens it’s sudden and she’ll never be entirely sure what to make of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of corpses, incineration, and being sick (no one throws up it's a mention that it almost happened and nothing graphic)

When it happens it’s sudden and she’ll never be entirely sure what to make of it. On the one hand it is necessary and it opens the doors for her, leads her into a wider world filled with possibilities she could never have dreamed of before. On the other hand, she is reluctant to celebrate anything that comes with a price of lives.

  

She thinks maybe it is okay for it to be both; a celebration of freedom and a mourning of lives all at the same time. But she never mentions this thought to anyone, just in case it’s not okay, and she spends the rest of her life uncertain about it. She wears her mourning as that seems to be generally accepted but keeps the bubbling joy beneath her skin, tied up with the lightning that lives there too.

 

It’s panic at first; the Templars turn on them, trying to put down a rebellion no one in Ostwick even knew was happening. Then it’s fury. So many people have had _enough_ and blood is quickly shed on both sides. But she does not like fighting so she gathers the children and the Tranquil and they all barricade themselves into the Harrowing Chamber.

 

This once terrifying place, the setting of many nightmares, becomes their sanctuary. With only one door it is the easiest room in the Tower to hold and the lightning wards she sets outside deter any stray combatant who breaks away from the main fighting areas.

 

The sounds quiet before the day is out but Ana is ever cautious and makes sure they stay there for longer. The children complain of being hungry but stop when she rounds on them with a serious look and tells them that a little time being hungry is preferable to the alternative. She has spent almost a decade being a childminder in the Tower and they trust her. More importantly they understand that she only uses that face when things are very serious.

 

It’s late in the next day before she agrees that they should see what has happened. It’s the children, the Tranquil, and her so she volunteers to scout out the Tower and begs the Tranquil to keep the children safe. There’s less blood than she was expecting but some of that might be related to the piles of ash and bone she finds scattered about. The smell also seems to have mostly gone and she discovers why as she goes. Most of the windows have been shattered and she has to be careful not to tread on the glass.

 

There are corpses both mage and Templar and she pauses at each one to close their eyes. She doesn’t really want to touch them but the children will be distressed enough, coming out this way, and the wide, glassy eyes will not help matters. She should probably move the bodies but she can’t stomach the thought. As it is she has to stick her head out of the window and just breathe more than once. She isn’t sick but it’s a close thing. When she reaches the library she stops to collect some of the books.

 

It seems selfish and almost wicked in light of what has happened but she can’t stop herself. There’s so much knowledge here, if you can look past the lies, and it seems wasteful to just leave it here for scavengers and the elements. Besides, she reasons, the children will still need their lessons and it will be easier with books. Free or not they still have great power in their souls. If they can’t control it it could easily lead to disaster.

 

The sun has set by the time she makes it to the ground floor. She wishes it hadn’t. The doors are wide open, creaking faintly from a soft breeze, and the black outside, lit only by the moon, looks both welcoming and ominous. She stands there, staring out into the blackness, paralyzed by fear and want. She’s not sure how long she remains like that, only that the stupor is broken by the sound of footsteps behind her.

 

Turning she finds the children and the Tranquil standing there. She has taken so long that they came to find her, make sure she was okay. The sentiment makes her hands shake and she folds them all into a group hug. The Tranquil seem collectively perplexed but willing to allow it while the children cling to her robes.

 

When she has gathered herself and forced the shaking to stop she takes the hand of the two youngest children. They make their way outside and take their first steps into a new world slowly but together. It’s scary but if there’s one thing the Tower prepares you for, it’s being scared. The difference is that this time the fear might be temporary.


End file.
